


you make my heart race

by takesmeunder



Category: One Direction (Band)
Genre: Alcohol, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-05-11
Updated: 2014-05-11
Packaged: 2018-01-24 09:24:32
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,391
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1599785
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/takesmeunder/pseuds/takesmeunder
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Niall and Harry go for a pool date in Brazil. Some things never change.</p>
            </blockquote>





	you make my heart race

**Author's Note:**

> Based on the pictures and video we got from their excursion out to the hotel pool. Especially that one picture where it looks like Harry is applying Niall's sunscreen.

Harry watches Niall get out of the pool for the umpteenth time, shorts clinging to his legs and hair sticking up at every angle. His trousers are slung so low that Harry can see the sharp cut of his hips, and Harry’s struck with the overwhelming want to _taste_.

Niall asks Harry to reapply his sunscreen when he’s settled on the pool chair and got another cold beer in his hand. Harry ignores the blatant warning glare from security as he reaches for the bottle and lathers the sunblock in his hands.

Harry starts at Niall’s shoulders where his skin is already a bit pink. He begins with a light touch, only pressing in with his thumbs when Niall groans and leans back into his hands.

“Don’t tease me,” Niall warns, his hand coming back to slide up Harry’s thigh.

Harry grits his teeth together and reaches for the bottle again, this time pouring it straight onto Niall’s back.

Niall jumps, which causes his beer to foam up and over the head of the bottle. Harry tries his best to stifle his laughter, but ultimately fails when Niall twists around in the chair with a frown on his face. “What the fuck, Haz?”

Harry shrugs and grabs onto Niall’s waist to turn him back around. “Sorry, Nialler. Thought it would be warm enough.” He keeps rubbing in the sunscreen after that, his hands moving up and down Niall’s spine and then across.

The afternoon carries on, both of them climbing in and out of the pool and getting more and more physical with each other. Light touches become full on gropes, Niall’s cheeks turning pink from more than just the sun and the alcohol. The more they drink, the less they care about being seen. Eventually, security has enough and instead of warning the pair of them, they get dragged back towards the hotel.

Harry waits until they’re on their way inside and out of view, and then tugs Niall into the nearest hotel washroom, flicking the lock on behind them. Harry’s not the most observant person, but this is the first time he doesn’t even check the room before he pushes Niall into the stall and drops to his knees.

Niall gasps, fingers threading into Harry’s hair, which is still a bit damp from his own escape into the pool. Harry can’t help the shiver that wracks his body when Niall scrapes his nails against his scalp.

“God, Hazza, you’ve been gagging for it all afternoon, haven’t ya?” Niall says, voice loud in the quiet washroom. He slurs his words a little and Harry knows it’s because of the liquor on his tongue.

Harry presses his face into the curve of Niall’s hips, tugging his bathing suit down so he can lick across the skin. “Have done,” he says softly, because he can admit it when he wants it bad. “Just wanted to taste you.”

Niall leans back against the washroom door, breath coming out short when he says, “Have at it, then.”

“Niall,” Harry whines before he can stop it, fingers hooking into Niall’s trousers so he can pull them down his thighs. Niall’s cock is already hard, curving up and against his belly and Harry’s mouth waters. He’ll never get over the fact that Niall trusts him to do this.

Niall must know what he’s thinking because he slides a hand down his cheek and slips his thumb across his wet lips. “Stop thinkin’ so much,” he says. “Get on with it.”

“Okay,” answers Harry, because he really doesn’t need to be told more than twice to suck Niall’s cock. He wraps his hand around the base, looking up at Niall from beneath his lashes when he moves forward and slides his lips over the head.

“Fucking shit,” Niall pants out, shoving his hips forward and making his cock bump the back of Harry’s throat. Harry missed this, missed Niall wanting it so bad he doesn’t restrain himself. “You’ve always liked that, haven’t ya? Gettin’ your throat fucked hoarse.”

Harry moans, hands coming up to grip Niall’s ask and tug him forward. They have a show tomorrow night, but it’s plenty of time for his throat to recover. Right now, he wants Niall to fuck his mouth hard enough that it will hurt to talk.

Niall catches on quickly, it’s one of the things Harry’s always loved about him. Niall’s hand grips the back of his head, fingers twisting into his hair and then he’s fucking into Harry’s mouth hard.

“Best thing about ya,” Niall moans, hips moving back and forth. “No gag reflex. God, Harry, you’re takin’ it so well.”

Harry loves praise almost as much as he loves sucking cock, and moves one of his hands down to palm himself through the fabric of his swimsuit.

“No,” Niall warns, and Harry pulls off his cock to whine. “I’ll take care of you when you finish me off. C’mon now, want to come all over that pretty face.”

Harry turns his head to take Niall’s cock back into his mouth, cheeks hollowing out as he sucks. Niall curses above him, and Harry can tell how close he is, knows all of Niall’s tells because he’s been doing this for nearly four years now.

He’ll never forget the first time they got each other off. Harry went to Ireland with Niall after they’d been put together on the xFactor, and the second night had somehow ended with Niall’s cock down Harry’s throat and both of them trying so, so hard not to wake the rest of the house up.

Niall had pulled out and come with Harry’s hand that first time, too shy to ask if he could come in his mouth. Now, Harry can’t get enough of the way Niall tastes.

Harry’s brought back to the present by Niall pulling roughly at his hair.

“Where’d ya go just then?” Niall asks breathlessly, and Harry can tell by the quiver of his thighs that he’s trying not to come.

Harry shakes his head, desperate to taste Niall come across his tongue. Niall tries to pull back but Harry moves forward, his hand sliding around Niall’s arse to press a finger over his hole.

Niall’s whole body jerks as he comes, legs nearly giving out as he spills into Harry’s mouth. Harry keeps a firm grip on his waist as he swallows Niall’s come and pulls off his cock with a breath of air.

He’s pulled up by Niall’s hands on his biceps, and he only manages a few quick inhales before Niall is connecting their lips in a dirty kiss, tongue sweeping the inside of Harry’s mouth to taste himself.

“Jesus, Haz. Said I wanted to come on your face, didn’t I? So desperate for my come that you had to make me shoot down your throat?” Niall says, and his face swims out of focus because Harry’s so hard that it aches. “Let’s take care of ya, shall we? Wanna come with my mouth, or my hand?”

Harry whimpers and grinds his hips against Niall’s thigh, so close to coming that he doesn’t care about missing out on the heat of Niall’s mouth or the firm grip of his hand.

“Just like this,” Harry gasps out. He’s shocked at how rough his voice sounds, and the other lads are going to tease them both mercilessly during soundcheck tomorrow, but Harry has absolutely no regrets. “Just a little more.”

“Christ,” says Niall, hands moving down to grip Harry’s arse and pull him forward, helping him grind against Niall’s hip faster and a little harder.

Harry buries his face into the crook of Niall’s neck and comes into his shorts, slow pulses that nearly make his legs give out.

“Good lad,” Niall says cheerfully, clearly recovered from his own orgasm in a short amount of time. Harry kind of hates him now that he doesn’t have a cock down his throat. “Come on, the other boys are goin’ to wonder we are.”

Harry whines pitifully, suddenly wishing he hadn’t come in his shorts. “Messy,” he says as he pulls back from Niall’s body.

Niall grins at him cheekily as he flips the lock on the bathroom stall. “Let’s get back to our room, maybe I’ll clean ya up when we get there.”

Harry moves a little quicker after that.

**Author's Note:**

> you can find me over at niallharold on tumblr if you want to chat!


End file.
